The Risks We Take
by sarah.altair
Summary: How far are you willing to go for the one you love? Caskett, Post-Always
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I wasn't planning on writing another _Castle _story, but people seemed to enjoy the first one (_A Fresh Start_), so I thought I would give it another shot. Here's an attempt at a more traditional format (short story instead of script).

The story is set immediately after the events of _A Fresh Start_ but should be understandable as long as you've seen "Always" (_Castle _04x23). For those of you who haven't read _A Fresh Start_, Castle and Beckett have been in a relationship for a couple weeks and at the end of _A Fresh Start_, Castle receives a phone call from Mr. Smith in the middle of the night during which it is revealed that a stranger – which the readers, but not Castle, know is Cole Maddox – has found Mr. Smith and is planning to kill Beckett.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Richard Castle is sitting on the beach boardwalk in the Hamptons, watching the sunset on a beautiful summer day. He is thinking about her now. She has been gone for a very long time, and each day of her absence feels like a weight pressing down on his chest. He does not cry, only because Richard Castle is not the kind of person to cry. He lets out a heavy sigh. He had planned this trip to the Hamptons to get away from the city, away from the thought of _her_, but it is clearly not working. No matter what he does, everything seems to remind him of Kate Beckett.

Richard Castle is sitting by himself on the boardwalk, as he has done every night for the summer. His family knows not to disturb him. He needs to be alone, just for a little bit. He needs to find a time when he does not have to put on a happy-go-lucky face for his fans or his publishers or any of the hundreds of people he sees at fancy parties and pretends to care about. This moment, just after dinner, just before it gets dark, Richard Castle can take off his mask and just be himself.

What he feels is regret. He remembers her beautiful face, the twinkle in her eyes when she smiles, the way her nose ruffles when she gets angry. He remembers her determination at making sure justice was served, her compassion as she spoke to a victim's family, her beauty and grace and the mysterious allure that had drawn him to her so many years ago. He imagines Kate Beckett standing on the beaches of the Hamptons, her long brunette curls swept up in the wind. Even now, he still hopes that she'll be there. That somehow, defying everything, he will look up and see her walking towards him in that confident, sexy manner that she always does. He wants so badly to see her again. He even considers committing a felony, maybe stealing another police horse, in the hopes that she would be the one arresting him. He wouldn't even mind the handcuffs.

But who is he kidding? Kate Beckett is gone – erased from his life like a flame blowing out, its light disappearing into the darkness. Richard Castle knows he needs to accept that and move on with his life. But he just can't. His life had changed so much since meeting Detective Kate Beckett. All he could think about now is her and everything they should have done together. Why had he been so slow? He should have told Kate how he felt sooner. He should have tried harder to win her love. He should have taken Beckett to the Hamptons, just once, as soon as he had known her life might be in danger. At the very least, they would have had that one time together. He could have seen her on this very beach, in all her beauty and wonder, just once in his life. Now, he never would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The last time he saw Kate, in those hours before everything changed, Richard Castle had been the happiest man in the world. Castle knew that was a cliché – he was a writer, of course he knew – but that was the truth. For just a little while, he had everything he could ever want. There were no bad guys, no snipers waiting to shoot – and he had her. She had finally come out of her shell and let him in.

Kate had not told him she loved him yet, but he knew. He knew in her eyes and her kisses and the way they made love that she cared. He was not worried. The words would come with time, when she was finally ready to say them.

In those few, precious moments, Richard Castle truly believed he and Kate could have a future together. He thought they had all the time in the world.

But then came the phone calls, as they always did. Richard Castle recognized Mr. Smith's voice immediately. He sensed the tension rooted in Mr. Smith's seemingly calm demeanor. There was always something wrong whenever Mr. Smith called, but this time was different. That night, Mr. Smith was no longer in control. He was not speaking to Castle, but someone else in the room. Castle was merely a fly on the wall, and he knew well enough to keep his mouth shut. The stranger spoke:

"_Like I said, Mr. Smith. You can't hide Kate Beckett from me."_

Richard Castle froze. The words were icicles piercing his body like a hail of unseen bullets. He looked to the bedroom, where Kate Beckett lay sound asleep. She was so peaceful, as though she didn't have a care in the world, as though she had forgotten there were men out there who planned to kill her. Castle had made her forget.

Castle felt his vision blurred. Emotions ran wild in his head, and he could not distinguish between any of them. Was he happy that Kate felt safe in his arms? That she had trusted him enough to let down her guard? Or was he upset, afraid that he had left her unprotected? They, the snipers and the monsters, were still coming after her. It was clear from the phone call that they would not stop. If he wasn't careful, if Kate kept her guard down, she could get killed. And if _anything_ happened to her… He inhaled sharply. He did not want to think about it. He could not _bear _thinking about it.

Richard Castle knew one thing for sure: he would do whatever it took to protect Kate Beckett. He loved her. He wanted – no, he _needed_ – to keep her safe.

His head spun. Years of being a writer taught him to concoct ridiculous plans, even the most convoluted and dizzying of twists. He used to say that if anyone could pull off the perfect murder, could cause a body to disappear and leave no trace of evidence, he would be the one to do it. He hoped that kind of thinking could be useful to him now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Richard Castle had not slept at all. By the time the sun rose and greeted Manhattan, Castle sat at his kitchen table with bags under his eyes, his weary body threatening to collapse. At eight-thirty, Kate Beckett strolled into the kitchen with a warm smile. She had slept soundly, happily – perhaps, Castle thought sadly, the happiest sleep she would have for a while.

"Hey," Beckett said. She walked over to the refrigerator door and pulled out a carton of milk. "What happened last night? Looks like you got up in the middle of the night and didn't fall back asleep."

Castle tried his best to smile, but he couldn't manage it.

"Sorry," he murmured, "something came up, and I couldn't stop thinking about it."

Beckett reached into the cabinet and pulled out a glass. She poured herself some milk and walked over to the kitchen table.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Her eyes caught his, a worried look appearing across her face. Castle felt a lump develop in his throat. She was the one they should be concerned about, not him. Castle took a deep breath and willed himself to speak.

"We said we wouldn't keep promises from each other, right?" he asked her.

She nodded. Secrets had nearly destroyed their partnership, and they agreed to never let that happen again.

"Kate, they're after you," Castle said. "The people who killed your mother, this whole conspiracy, they're coming, and they're going to kill you."

Beckett's eyes narrowed in concern. "But the deal," she said, saying each word carefully. "You said that they would stop if I didn't look into my mother's case. I'm done. I'm not going after them again. So why are they still coming?"

Castle shook his head. "I don't know, but the deal is broken. I think it's gone too far, Kate. This time, they're not going to stop, no matter what you do."

Beckett opened her mouth to speak, but the words never came out. Castle's heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to go to her, to embrace her and tell her that everything would be all right. But as always, something stopped him. He had always thought it was fear, uncertainty about where he and Beckett stood in their relationship, but he knew now it was something more than that. He could not bring himself to touch her when she was most vulnerable, because he did not know what he could do without hurting her.

"There's more," Castle said.

He dropped his gaze. He did not want to look Kate in the eye when he said these crucial words. She would hate him for it, and he already hated himself so much for putting this plan into action. But she needed to know what was going to happen, and he needed to let all the other pieces fall into place. It was the only way to keep her safe.

His eyes turned towards the table in front of him. Two hours earlier, the kitchen table had been filled with papers detailing his plan. Now, all that was left was his cell phone and a coffee stain on the table from when he needed that 3 am boost. Castle had burned everything else. That was the first rule about pulling something like this off: leave no evidence.

He took the cell phone off the table and placed it in his pocket. He would need it later, after – a chill went through his veins – after Kate left.

"I've made some arrangements for you," Castle said. "You're going to disappear, far away from New York, far away from anything that has to do with your mom's murder. You'll become someone else, someone that the people looking for Kate Beckett will never find."

He looked up. He expected Beckett's face to be filled with anger, as it always was when Castle tried to take control of her life. Yet Kate seemed to be on the verge of tears, her mouth pouting like a child whose life was being dictated by adults and had no choice in the matter. Castle had only seen this face once before, in the hanger the night Captain Montgomery was killed. It had broken his heart to see her so helpless, and it was breaking his heart now.

"No," she murmured, so softly that Castle barely heard it.

"It's the only way," Castle said, standing up. "You've got to. You have to get away from all this. It's the only way to keep you safe."

"No!" Beckett shouted so loudly that Castle feared the rest of his family would come and investigate. He sighed softly in relief when he remembered that Martha had gone on a retreat and Alexis had spent the night out with friends. They couldn't be around. They couldn't know what Castle planned to do. That was the second rule: Only those involved could ever know. That was the only way to keep the secret safe.

Beckett stumbled towards Castle, placing her hands on his chest.

"Please, Rick," she murmured to him. "You can't do this to me. My whole life is here. My Dad, my friends, you…How am I supposed to leave that all behind?"

Richard choked on his words. A lump developed in his throat, and he forced himself to swallow it down.

"You have to," he said. "Believe me, if there was any other way, I would do it, but they're after you, Kate. And they're not going to stop until they find you and they kill you. You have to know, it _kills me_ to send you away like this, but if it'll keep you safe, then I'm willing to do it."

He closed his eyes. He did not want to see Kate in this much pain, but he needed to tell her everything before she disappeared from his life forever.

"I've arranged for two bodyguards to pick you up and take you in a tinted black van to an undisclosed location. I've known these two for several years now, and I'd trust them with my life, so you'll be safe until you get there. From the minute you leave this house, you'll be going under a different name. Kate Beckett will cease to exist."

The details of his convoluted plan spun wildly through his head. He was up against the demons who had killed Johanna Beckett: they were clever, and – as far as Richard Castle knew – they were everywhere. He needed to take every precaution, place every red herring he could. The details were nauseating, difficult for even Richard Castle to keep up with. Three identity switches, four changing of guards escorting her, and as many trips to random, undisclosed locations as he could manage. If all went according to plan – and, Castle thought with a deep breath, this was only part one of his master plan – she would escape into anonymity, and it would look as though Kate Beckett had never left New York City.

As Castle finished laying out the details, he opened his eyes. Beckett stared back at him. He couldn't tell what that expression was on her face – fear? Incredulity? Helplessness? – but it killed him all the same.

"I've got no choice, do I?" she finally murmured.

Castle shook his head. For a moment, they stood in silence, not knowing what to say to each other. He should say something, Castle thought to himself. There was such little time left. Soon, Kate Beckett would be nothing more than a distant memory, and all Richard Castle had now was this one small moment with her. Yet he couldn't think of what to say.

Richard Castle opened his mouth, hoping that the words would come to him. As he did, the door knocked, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Every time, he thought to himself. This happened _every time_.

"That'll be them," he croaked. He walked slowly to the door, like a prisoner heading towards the gallows.

"Rick," Kate called out to him.

Castle turned around to face her. For a moment, he felt stunned as he looked at her, standing calmly before him. Maybe it was because he knew he would never see Kate Beckett again, but Richard Castle was struck by how absolutely beautiful she really was. He knew he would never find anyone who could stand as tall as she did, even as the world around her was crumbling apart. Only Kate Beckett could seem extraordinary just by standing in front of him, wearing a plain t-shirt and blue jeans, her brunette locks resting gently on her shoulders. Castle's heart beat wildly in his chest. It took everything he had not to run back to her.

"Rick," Kate said again. "I just want you to know, whatever happens…"

Her voice trailed away. Kate breathed in for a moment, as though she was trying to find her words. Castle smiled. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to say anything. He knew what she meant. He always knew.

But before he could say a word, Beckett spoke again. She raised her head, her eyes shimmering with determination.

"Whatever happens," she told him, "I love you. Always."

* * *

Kate Beckett walked through the doors of Richard Castle's apartment and out of his life forever. After she left, Castle grabbed a bottle of scotch and a glass from the kitchen and walked into his office, closing the door behind him. He poured himself a shot and downed it in one go. The alcohol burned in his throat, but he barely tasted it.

Castle sighed, placing the glass down on his desk. When Kate left, Castle felt something die within himself. His body ached, begging for a moment to grieve over his wounds, but Castle ignored the pain. If he gave in now, he didn't think he would ever stop. And, he reminded himself bitterly, there was still work to be done.

Castle reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He opened his desk drawer and took out four business cards. They were all old friends, people Richard Castle knew he could count on to do the job right: Dr. Vincent Shoksky, _Anatomical Research Foundation_; Dr. James Bryer, _Manhattan Cosmetics_; Xavier Kane, _Kane & Son Moving Co._; and Dr. Lanie Parish, _NYPD Medical Examiner_.

Taking the first card in hand, Richard Castle punched the numbers into his cell phone and waited for an answer. As the dial tone rang in his ear, Castle inhaled deeply. He knew how all the pieces should fall into place. He only hoped he was putting his trust in the right people.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Two weeks had passed when Richard Castle got the phone call. He was sitting in his office, staring at a blank screen on his computer. He had not written a single word since Kate left, even though his publisher had badgered him about his latest missed deadline. He couldn't bring himself to find the words. His muse was gone, and whatever happened – whether Kate had made it to her final destination safely or not – she was never coming back.

If he was honest with himself, he felt a sense of relief when the phone rang. It gave him an excuse to procrastinate. He almost smiled to himself when he saw the words "Twelfth Precinct" on the caller ID. He picked up the phone casually, forgetting for a moment that Kate Beckett would not be on the other end, telling him where to find the latest dead body. It had become so habitual, so regular – that despite everything that happened, he still expected to hear her voice.

The worried voice of Detective Kevin Ryan broke Castle out of his fantasy.

"Castle." Ryan's voice was broken, uneven – as though something had lodged itself in his vocal chords. "You'll need to see this."

* * *

Castle wasn't sure how he got from his office to the banks of the Hudson River. His drive over was a complete blur. All he could remember was the gaping feeling in his stomach as the words Detective Ryan said over the phone repeated in his head: "_Hudson River…body…Beckett…_"

He rushed out of his car and across the broken pieces of gravel. As he approached, the familiar faces of Captain Gates, Ryan, Lanie, even Esposito came into view. Castle suddenly felt the wind knocked out of him. The entire scene reminded him of Montgomery's funeral. Under the cloudy New York sky, the dark police uniforms seemed black. Mournful. Everyone was gathered around the body that lay face-down in the dirt, the tide from the Hudson River lapping at her heels. Richard Castle gasped for breath as he ran to them, to her. He couldn't remember: was this how all crime scenes had looked in the past? Or was this one different, because they knew who the victim really was?

"What happened?" he called out.

The officers turned toward him. A wave of anguish washed over Castle. He could tell from the pain in their eyes that their worst fears had been confirmed: Kate Beckett was the body in the dirt, and they had no idea who had put her there.

Ryan and Esposito moved away, letting Castle in to see the body. Castle closed his eyes. A part of him didn't want to see, but at the same time, he knew he couldn't just walk away. He opened his eyes and looked down at the lifeless body before him.

She was wearing a black jacket and jeans – the same ones, Castle thought to himself, Kate had worn the night she showed up soaking wet on his doorstep. Her brunette hair was sprawled across her head and shoulders. Dried blood caked the scalp where something had hit her hard on the head. Where the skin was visible, there were lacerations covering her body. Her hands were bright red and swollen, as though they had been burned. Castle winced and turned away.

"I'm sorry, bro," Esposito murmured.

Castle inhaled deeply. "And you're sure," he asked, his voice cracking. "You're sure it's her?"

"That's what we think, but whoever did this burned off her prints," Esposito said. He glanced towards Lanie almost involuntarily. "So we'll have to do more tests–"

"I think I know what my best friend looks like," the medical examiner snapped back. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She sniffled, turning back towards Esposito. "I'm sorry. It's just…I can't believe she's gone."

Esposito nodded, placing his arm around her waist. Perhaps in any other case, Castle knew, Lanie would have refused Esposito's comfort, but now she let herself fall into Esposito's embrace. Castle bit his lip, remembering how Montgomery's funeral had brought him closer to Beckett. Why, he wondered, did it always take a tragedy to bring two people closer together?

"Dr. Parish." The firm voice of Captain Gates brought them back to the present. "I understand that you're upset, but we do have a homicide to take care of. So if you can't handle yourself, I'd be perfectly fine with having someone else look over the body."

Lanie shook her head, breaking out of Esposito's arms.

"No, I'm fine," she said, wiping away one last tear. "This is my friend, and if anyone's going to handle her, it's me."

Captain Gates raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

Lanie nodded. "I got a little emotional there, but it won't happen again."

"All right," Gates said. "Then let's get this body to the morgue and make sure we know who it really is. And Detective Ryan, canvass the area again and see if anyone saw anything."

"Sir," Ryan spoke up. "What about Castle and Esposito? Can they help?"

Gates bit her lip. For a moment, Castle thought she might show some compassion for the situation.

"No," Gates decided firmly. "Detective Esposito is no longer a homicide detective of the NYPD, and Mr. Castle never was. If this is indeed one of our own, then this investigation needs to be made top-priority. We can't have rogue investigators coming in and breaking procedure."

She paused for a moment, her expression softening.

"Look, I know she was your friend," Gates finally said, "and believe me when I say that I will have my best people on this case. But those are the rules, and I can't make special exceptions – especially in a situation as important as this. Understand?"

"Yes," Castle found himself saying. "Of course."

He ignored the looks of shock from Ryan and Esposito. Castle knew what they must be thinking: he was always the first one to go rogue. But this time, he couldn't risk it. Digging too deep into a case had gotten them into this mess to begin with. It had unearthed answers that maybe they never should have found.

Castle was sure of it: this time, Gates was right. They needed to stay out of this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

As Richard Castle placed on his black suit and adjusted his tie, he prepared himself for the moment he never thought he would have to experience: the funeral of Katherine Beckett.

He stood in front of his bedroom mirror and examined himself. He had gotten a haircut and fresh shave for the occasion, both of which he regretted now. Sure, they helped to clean him up, but they were strange, unfamiliar, and made him feel at least ten years older. Or maybe that was the bags under his eyes, which had never gone away since the day he got that phone call from Mr. Smith. Castle sighed. He could make all the excuses he wanted, but he knew none of these were why his appearance had gone to waste.

Castle didn't want to think about the real reason. If he could, he tried not to dwell on that idea for too long – even though everything in his life felt like a reminder of Kate's absence. Today was not going to help. Everyone would be bombarding him with memories of her, mourning her. He wasn't sure how much of it he could take.

Castle sighed. He absentmindedly reached over to the table next to him, expecting to find a shot glass. Ever since that night, he always kept a glass and a bottle of scotch within close reach – but today, they wasn't there.

"If there's any day to be sober," a voice called out from behind, "it's today."

Castle turned around to see his mother walking towards him. Martha Rodgers' normally flamboyant clothes were replaced with a somber, charcoal dress. Even her flame red hair seemed lackluster as it hung limp on her shoulders. She frowned as she approached, her eyes filled with concern. Castle found himself glancing towards the mirror again, checking to see if his appearance was really as bad as his mother seemed to think.

Martha Rodgers sighed, reaching out to straighten her son's tie.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Castle muttered back. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it refused to go down. He shook his head. "No."

Martha sighed, dusting off Castle's suit. "I was afraid this was going to happen. That you were going to get hurt. But what's done is done, and you can't blame yourself for everything that went wrong."

Her words were meant to be comforting, but Castle felt as though he had been kicked in the stomach. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to keep quiet. Whatever his mother said, Castle knew he was to blame for everything that happened. It was, and always would be, his fault.

Somehow, Martha seemed to know what he was thinking. Or at least, she thought she knew. Castle had learned over the years that he could hide the details as much as he wanted, but he would never completely hide the truth from his mother. She could tell, as though it was written across his face.

"You did everything you could," she reminded him.

Her eyes looked at him softly, as though to ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?" Castle knew he must have looked terrible if she looked at him like that. It was the kind of look she had given him as a kid, every time she reminded him she did not know who his father was. It was the look Martha Rodgers gave when the ones she loved needed help she could not give.

There was a knock at the door, and Alexis poked her head in.

"It's almost time," she said quietly.

"Thanks, dear," Martha said. "We'll be right out."

Alexis nodded and disappeared behind the heavy door. Martha turned back towards her son, smoothing out the shoulders of his suit.

"Come on," she told him softly. "It's time to put this to rest."

* * *

The ceremony was quiet, short – almost merciful, Castle thought. He had felt numb during the entire experience, barely hearing the eulogy Jim Beckett gave, losing himself in silence as the casket was lowered into the ground. Only once the service was done and the procession made its way back to funeral home did Richard Castle seem to find his voice again. It was then, as Castle thanked the guests for coming and accepted their condolences, that Javier Esposito approached him.

"Can I talk to you, man?"

Castle nodded and excused himself from the crowd. He and Esposito shuffled to the door, where Detective Kevin Ryan was waiting for them. Seeing Ryan outside, Castle let out a deep sigh. One day, he almost said out loud, couldn't they put this off for _one day_?

"Hey," Ryan said, holding out his hand. "Good to see you."

Castle nodded, shaking Ryan's hand quickly. The detective smiled slightly, as though he was surprised Castle had accepted this polite greeting. Castle inhaled deeply, bracing himself for impact. With Ryan's reaction, there was no chance that this was just another "sorry-about-what-happened."

"So Castle," Ryan said, "we've been looking more into Beckett's case, and…"

"And what?" Castle said, feeling impatient. This was just the build-up, he knew. He was waiting for the bomb to drop.

"Dead ends, all of them," Ryan said. "We were hoping, maybe you might have some ideas? Something that could help?"

Boom.

"I told you already," Castle said. "I don't think I should be looking into this investigation."

Esposito frowned. "Look, man, the rest of us are grieving as much as you are. But Beckett was our friend, and we owe it to her to make sure those bastards pay for what they did."

"There is an investigation going on," Castle reminded him. "I'm sure Ryan and the rest of NYPD can do their jobs without some wannabe cop like me butting in. If we're going to do this, we have to do it right."

"If we don't do something, there won't be an investigation anymore!" Esposito shouted back. "There are no leads, no traces of evidence, nothing. Just like every other time, the person who did this vanishes into thin air, and the case goes cold."

He stepped forward, forcing Castle against the wall of the funeral home.

"Is that what you want?" Esposito spat out. "For Beckett to rot in the ground while her killer goes free, doing–"

Castle never heard the end of that sentence. Blood pounded in his ears, and he punched Esposito in the nose with all the force he could muster. Esposito blinked in shock. He placed his hand up to his nose. Blood spurted onto his fingertips in a steady stream. Esposito turned back towards Castle, anger growing in his eyes. Castle braced himself, but not before Esposito swung at his head. Pain raced through Castle's nerves as Esposito's fist dislocated his jaw. Castle's knees buckled, and he crumbled to the ground.

"Javier Esposito!" a voice screeched.

Castle blinked a few times, his vision blurred from the shock of being punched. Gradually, Esposito came back into view. The former homicide detective was still flushed with anger, but his attention had been diverted by the woman who had called out during the fight. Detective Ryan was next to him, his hand still gripping Esposito's shoulder from when he attempted to hold back his former partner. Like Esposito, Ryan also looked towards the funeral home entrance. Castle slowly turned his head in that direction. Lanie Parish was making her way towards them.

Lanie was calm as she approached the three men, the corners of her mouth turned downward in a disapproving frown. Her brown eyes glared at Esposito, who seemed to shrink in her presence.

"What the hell were you thinking," she asked him, "fighting at a funeral?"

Esposito glanced towards Castle. "He started it. He punched me in the face!"

"Looks like a simple nosebleed to me. No real damage," she said, her eyes glancing over Esposito's nose. "And that doesn't give you the right to punch the living daylights out of him. Can't you see the guy's hurt enough?"

Esposito frowned. "So you're saying this is my fault?"

"What I'm saying is everyone here is upset. Let's not make it any worse." She looked from Esposito to Castle. "Can we all just go and cool off?"

"Fine," Esposito muttered. He turned around and stormed away.

Lanie sighed. "Ryan," she said, turning towards the detective, "can you…?"

Ryan nodded and followed Esposito. When the detective had left, Lanie turned towards Castle.

"Are you all right?" she said, holding out her hand.

Castle nodded. He took Lanie's hand, and she helped him up. Once Castle was standing, Lanie examined his jaw, carefully tilting his head for a better view. Castle winced at her touch.

"You'll want to get that checked out," she told him. Her voice dropped into a whisper. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Castle nodded, muttering his thanks as he walked back into the funeral home. He kept his gaze downwards, ignoring the murmurings of the funeral guests as he made his way to the men's room. He didn't need to know what people had heard of his fight with Esposito. Right now, he just needed to be alone.

* * *

Richard Castle had just opened the bathroom door when he ran into Jim Beckett. The older Beckett was at the sink, looking wearier than Castle had ever seen him before. Drops of water dripped from Jim Beckett's chin, as though he had splashed his face with cold water. In his hands, he clutched a package of tissues. There was only one left.

Castle cursed his luck. He had wanted a moment of peace, and instead, he found himself with the man who had the most reason to hate him. Castle thought about backing out, of pretending he no longer needed the restroom, but it was clear that Jim Beckett had already seen him. Castle sighed. The two of them had said very little during the entire funeral. Maybe it was time to break the silence.

"I'm sorry," Castle told him. "For everything."

Jim Beckett took a deep breath, as though trying to find his words. "It's all right, Mr. Castle," he finally said. His voice cracked when he spoke. It was the voice of a wounded man.

Castle felt a pang of guilt in his chest. "No, it's not. I told you I would protect her…" But instead, Castle thought as his voice trailed away, he had only caused pain for the ones she loved.

Jim Beckett shook his head softly, even as a tear dripped down his cheek.

"I know you did everything you could," he murmured, "but Katie was just as stubborn as her mother was. Both of them always had to find the truth, no matter what happened. Neither you or I could have stopped them."

Castle inhaled sharply. The ache in his chest grew with every word Jim Beckett said. Castle wanted to collapse right there, to tell Jim Beckett everything that had happened. Castle should have told him from the start – it would have made things easier for all of them. Kate would have wanted it, Castle thought. Jim was Kate's father, and she never would have wanted to see him in this much pain – the pain that Richard Castle had caused.

He wondered if Lanie felt the same way he did. Castle knew that was what she had meant when she had helped him with his jaw. She must have wanted to tell Esposito, Ryan, everyone who was crying and mourning at the funeral today. It must have killed Lanie to hide the truth from them, just as it was killing Castle.

"Jim," Castle ventured – but once the older Beckett turned towards him, Castle suddenly lost his nerve. He took a deep breath. "I really am sorry."

Jim Beckett turned towards Castle. Tears trailed his cheeks, but the older man did his best to attempt a smile.

"You know, Mr. Castle, my daughter cared very much about you," Jim Beckett told him. "I'm glad that, for a little while, you were there for her."

Castle swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to stay silent. He couldn't say anything about what had happened – no matter how much he wanted to tell Jim Beckett the truth, no matter how much he wanted to lessen the pain.

That was the third rule: once he started, he could not turn back. Everything that happened – and all the consequences that came with – would be his alone to bear.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

When Richard Castle had put the pieces of his plan together, he had left asking Dr. Lanie Parish for help last. Lanie was Kate Beckett's best friend, and while that meant Castle could trust her to protect Kate, it almost made this the most difficult of all.

Three weeks before the funeral of Katherine Beckett and two weeks before the NYPD called him to the Hudson River, Richard Castle had asked Lanie Parish to come to his apartment. When he called, he did not tell her the reason – only that it was about Beckett and that Castle needed Lanie's help. Lanie Parish agreed to come the very next day, during a time when Castle knew no one else would be home.

"All right, Castle," Lanie said, placing her purse on his kitchen table. "What is this about?"

Castle took a deep breath. "I sent Beckett into hiding."

Lanie's eyes widened. "You did what?"

"It was the only way to keep her safe," Castle said. "They were after her, the people that killed her mother. They were going to kill her. I had to keep her safe."

"Where is she?" Lanie demanded to know.

"I don't know," Castle said. It was the truth. He had kept Kate's final destination random, so that no one – not even him, the planner of this entire scheme – could know where it was. But that detail wasn't important now. "That's not why I called you here, Lanie."

"Oh good," Lanie replied sarcastically. "You didn't just call me here to tell me you wiped my best friend off the face of the earth."

Normally, Castle would have made some childish comment about irony at its finest, but this was not the time for that.

"Look," he said, his voice turning cold and serious. "I know you're mad that I didn't tell you, but I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't tell anyone. Not if I wanted to keep Beckett safe." He let out a sigh. "I called you because I need your help in throwing those people off Beckett's trail. But you can't tell anyone – not even Ryan and Esposito. This secret might be the only thing that'll keep Beckett alive."

Lanie blinked. Whatever anger she had towards Castle was replaced by a grave expression.

"Castle," she whispered, "what are you planning?"

To wipe Kate Beckett off the face of the earth, Castle thought grimly to himself.

"I'm going to fake Beckett's death."

* * *

"Are you crazy?" Lanie screeched.

Castle shook his head. He had never been so sure of anything before in his life.

"Just listen to me," he said. "If everyone thinks Kate Beckett is dead, if we can convince the people after her that she died in a freak accident, by the hands of someone else, then they might be convinced to stop looking for her."

"That's why Ryan and Esposito can't know," Lanie murmured, her eyes widening with understanding.

Castle nodded. "The fewer people who know–" he inhaled sharply "–the more _real_ her death seems, then the better chance she has. The people at the 12th Precinct will think that the sniper finally got her, and hopefully, the people chasing her will think it was someone else. Kate was a detective for years – she's gotten plenty of enemies by now."

"So what do you need from me?"

Castle took in a deep breath. "In two weeks, you're going to find a body. It'll be in the 12th Precinct's jurisdiction, so it'll definitely come to you. The body will be a doppelganger for Kate Beckett – you'll recognize it immediately. There won't be any prints, and the body will be too damaged for facial recognition, so–"

"So I'll be asked to run more tests," Lanie murmured.

Castle nodded. "DNA tests, probably. And who knows what else. That's why I need you to fake the test results. Do whatever you can to convince everyone that this doppelganger _is_ Kate Beckett. That's all you have to do. I'll take care of the rest." He paused. "I can count on you, right?"

Lanie nodded. "I'll make sure of it."

Castle smiled, relief washing over him. The final piece was in place.

"But Castle," Lanie spoke up, "you know Ryan and Esposito. They're going to keep digging. What if they find out?"

"They won't."

"But what if?" Lanie insisted. "If this traces back to you, you'll be arrested. Even if you get around that, Ryan, Esposito, Kate's Dad – they might never forgive you."

Castle nodded. He knew what would happen if he couldn't pull this off, but he also knew what was at stake.

"If it can keep Beckett safe," Castle said, "it's a risk I'm willing to take."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Richard Castle is sitting on the beach boardwalk at the Hamptons, remembering how he – with a little bit of help – got away with murder and helped Kate Beckett escape the monsters that were chasing her. But it was a hollow victory. He had not seen or heard from Kate Beckett since that fateful day. He had no idea where she was at this very moment, if she was even safe. He would never know if his plans had truly lured the snipers away – or if all of it was for nothing. He could only hope and remind himself that, in the end, he did everything he could.

But sometimes, that isn't enough. Sometimes, Richard Castle needs a moment of peace. Sometimes, he needs to sit on the beach boardwalk and watch the sun set on a beautiful summer day, the colors of the sky disappearing into nothingness. Sometimes, all Richard Castle needs is to be alone.

"Is this seat taken?" a voice asks from behind, breaking through Castle's thoughts.

Richard Castle blinks in surprise.

"Kate?" he murmurs, turning around. A woman stands behind him in a long, summer dress. Her eyes are hidden behind large, black sunglasses. A red and white scarf covers her head, but Castle can see strands of short, blond hair peeking out.

"Sorry," the woman replies calmly, "I think you have me confused with someone else."

The woman takes off her sunglasses and hangs them from the neckline of her dress. Castle's eyes widen in surprise. Chestnut eyes twinkle back at him. _Her _eyes. Castle studies the woman's face carefully. Some things are different – but it had been so long, Castle thought, _of course_ there would be some change – yet some things are just as he remembered it: the twinkling eyes, the kind smile. Richard Castle never thought he would see any of it again…but there she was.

"Nicole Kingsman," the woman introduces herself, moving to sit beside him. "But _you_ can call me Nikki."

For the first time in a very long time, Castle feels himself smile. He turns towards her, his heart lifted. The weight of her absence, every day that he thought of her gone – all of it feels as though it was building up to this one moment.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, taking his hand. She looks at him sheepishly, as though she was a child who had gotten in trouble. "I just couldn't stay away."

He almost laughs. He's missed this so much.

"It's a sign," he says, leaning in close. "A sign that the two of us should stay together. Always."

She smiles, placing her hands on his chest. Her fingers wrap themselves around the collar of his shirt.

"Well," she whispers, pulling him in. "Good thing I respect the universe."

* * *

**Closing Remarks:** Thank you very much for reading! If you enjoy my stories, please review and tell me what you'd like to see next – if anything at all. It helps me get a feel for where things should be going, and I really appreciate it!


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